Even The Doctor Rests
by Pure Eminence
Summary: It is Christmas once again, only this time, The Doctor will be celebrating Christmas by taking a rest, a rest with one of his favourite human beings in all existence.


Oh, it was that time of year already. The holidays were once again upon them. And, to admit, the holidays were always an. . . interesting time. For both of them. One spent them dodging death, the other spent them dodging family, which was surprisingly similar. And yet, here they were now. Sitting in a magical box, one that could bring them across time and space at a whim. A box that could take away all their troubles: his with his own, still deep down guilt conscience, and her's with her grief, her never ending grief. They could go off and have adventures, see the universe, and save it fifty times over, and still get back in time for a cuppa.  
Oh, how the magical blue box seemed to take it all away. All the troubles of the slow lane. Life in the fast lane was always, always much better, when you knew where you were going, or what you were running from. And, even though both had been running for so, so, so long, here they were: back home.  
Well, not home. But Earth. London. Oh, how festive London was this time of year. It was always a beautiful place to be during the holidays. The culture was so exuberant, the people were. . . well, in a hurry. Last minute shopping, last minute card sending, last minute traveling, last minute anything and everything. Only Clara Oswald wouldn't rather be anywhere else for the holidays. Or with anyone else.  
So, yes, she was with the man she had fallen in love with, the man who saved her from the internet, the man who swept her off her feet and literally showed her the universe. The man who thought bow ties were still 'cool'. No matter how goofy he was, she wouldn't rather be seeing the universe with any other person in the whole wide universe. And she really, really hoped he wouldn't rather be traveling with anyone else as well. She hoped he felt the same.  
And so, the blue, magical police box sat in the open field, covered in snow as night fell upon the mighty city, the sun falling out of sight, and the moon rising up tall in the sky. Only, unlike other nights in the 'snog box', it now had hanging upon it a wreath, for all to see. But, that was only on the outside.  
On the inside, Christmas lights were hung open the top of the mighty TARDIS, with even the console herself bearing some of the Christmas lights. In the corner sat a Christmas tree like no other, a Christmas tree truly beautiful, a Christmas tree more beautiful than any she had ever seen before. The Doctor went on a whole rant about where it was from and when it was from, but she didn't listen. She was busy being captivated by the pure beauty of the tree, the tree that was the perfect shade, with the perfect amount of leaves. The tree that was just overall perfect. The most beautiful tree in all the galaxy.  
The tree was now, though, covered in Christmas lights, much like the rest of the TARDIS, and also was covered in beautiful elements, that The Doctor also went on to explain, saying that some were from queens and kings, while others were from 'gods' and presidents and prime ministers, but once again, Clara didn't listen. Oh, no, the tree itself was too beautiful for human eyes, but the ornaments, all placed perfectly upon its branches? It was the most perfect definition of true perfection. The Doctor really had outdone himself. . . again.  
It had been awhile for The Doctor, awhile since he had actually celebrated Christmas with someone he cared so deeply about, much less a human he so passionately cared about. Oh, Clara Oswald. How beautiful she was. The way the light reflected off her dazzling brown eyes, the way her hair captured the sun, the way her lips always curved into the most perfect, beautiful smile he had ever seen. Oh, The Doctor had seen it all, from the most beautiful queens to the sexiest supermodels, she had them beat by far. Words could not fathom how drop dead gorgeous she looked. Nor could they describe the love he had for her, a love he hadn't possessed since. . . her.  
Only this time, it was different. She was still here, right here, next to him, wanting to celebrate Christmas with him. A holiday he normally either fast forwarded through, or spent once again trying to save the universe. He had to tell her, someway, somehow. He just had to. He didn't care what she said, he had to confess his feelings. He couldn't keep them unsaid, not this time, not ever again.  
And so, the two sat, outside, on a park bench, one in a giant, puff jacket, the other in a black coat and best of the same colour. They watched the snow fall, and the people, the oh so hilarious people, rush by on their phones, trying to make last minute arrangements, trying to buy last minute gifts. They sat laughing, with not a moment of silence. They were truly happy in each other's company.  
"Thank you," Clara said as she turned to face The Doctor, her face bearing a bright, wide smile. Those two words couldn't summarize the happiness this night with him gave her. Only they were as close as she was going to get without saying three words she had never said before.  
"Oh, don't thank me. Sometimes we all need to stop and relax," he said in response, only peeking at her through the corner of his eye. He didn't need to see her face in the moonlight, no. He couldn't stop himself if he did.  
"Oh, even The Doctor takes a break sometimes? That makes all us mortals feel a lot better," she said with a chuckle, causing him to release one as well, as the wind blew against their faces, causing it to become even more cold in the already freezing temperature, only neither cared that they were freezing. No, they only cared the other was.  
"We should go in," he said to her, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded, and both the Time Lord and the Woman Twice Dead jumped to their feet and quickly walked towards the TARDIS. The Doctor snapped his fingers for her to open, and with that, they rushed inside, back inside the warm, beautiful TARDIS.  
After hanging up their coats, both realized how tired they actually were. Normally they would be on adventures and in terrible danger, but when they weren't, it seemed as if time moved slower, and if every moment dragged out just a little longer. It took a lot more just to get through a 'normal' day, or as normal of a day you'll get with The Doctor.  
Only, who can go to bed on Christmas Eve? Not children, not adults, and not even Time Lords. The Doctor didn't know why he was excited, no, he found himself puzzled for one of the rare moments in all of time. Maybe it was because he never celebrated the holiday in this way before. Maybe it was who he was with. Maybe it was both. But, either way, he couldn't sleep. And he knew she couldn't either, as she knew the same about him. Only, just as he was about to rise to his feet to wander the TARDIS and make his way towards Clara's room, he looked up and realized her already there in the doorway, standing in a night gown, with sleepy eyes and a wide grin. Yet another thing The Doctor just could not explain.  
"I couldn't sleep," she said in a soft mumble as she began to walk towards him, her eyes seeming to flutter open and closed, as if she was sleep walking at moments, and waking up at others.  
"You look pretty tired to me," The Doctor said as he sat up and squinted his eyes to get a better look at his obviously exhausted companion. Even in the dark, even in exhaustion, she looked beautiful.  
She sat on the side of the bed, and slowly begin to crawl onto it, lifting one leg up at a time until she was right next to The Doctor, and was close enough to touch him. She placed her finger onto his soft lips, and said "Shh," before letting out a light giggle.  
The Doctor couldn't possibly figure out what was happening. Could his extremely brilliant companion be trying to sleep with him (literally), or was she trying to get him to take her somewhere. . .? He just didn't know. He couldn't read her face, it was too dark, and he knew that she wouldn't give him any clues in her current state. Even tired, Clara Oswald was extremely clever, clever enough to hide her true motives to get something she wanted that badly. The question that now remained was, what does she want? A question he wanted to get the answer too. Now. "What're you doing?"  
That's when she did it. She took her finger off The Doctor's lips, and instead placed something new against them, something tastier, something softer. He didn't know how to react to her actions, but after a few moment of once again feeling the taste of her lips, he gave in, and pressed his lips back against the gentle lips of Clara's. She softly moaned in response, and wrapped her arms around The Doctor's neck. The two fell down, The Doctor on top of Clara, and continued their kissing.  
They kissed and made love throughout the night, until they were too exhausted to even move. They had explored each other's body, and kissed every inch of each other's skin at least once. Clara had collapsed with her head buried in The Doctor's neck, and his arm around her body, keeping her close to him, that same stupid, stupid smile on his face that he always had.  
Clara was the first awake, and was a little surprised to awake in The Doctor's arms. She had forgotten completely about the night. It seemed too much like a dream, like an impossible event. But it wasn't. And as she began to lift her head, she noticed The Doctor open his eyes due to her shift. She couldn't help but smile at him, at her doctor. "Merry Christmas," she said to him, which seemed to be as good as "I love you," to both of them, before she gently placed her lips against his.  
The Doctor had always loved Christmas, but never really taken the time to celebrate it, until he met Clara Oswald, the Woman Twice Dead, the Impossible Girl. Then again, a lot changed when he met the brilliant Clara Oswald. One being that even on the day where the world slept in peace, The Doctor too, took rest.


End file.
